Y/n Holmes // Sherlocks Sister

14

-Sherlock's POV-

I burst into Y/N's flat, outraged at myself for not noticing her using today.
"Where are they?"

She just looks up from the sofa and furrows her eyebrows,"Where are what?"

"Don't act stupid. The drugs. Now. Where?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she just lays back.

"Okay so. It's not in here otherwise you'd have looked towards them already. Bedroom? Possibly but you wouldn't keep them in a drawer next to your bed, that's too easy. Bathroom? Private? Most likely. Same drawer that the blades were in? Rule of probability," I say out loud and walk into her bathroom. I hear her say my name and start to get up as I swing the door open. I rummage through some skincare which seems like it's never been opened and find my way to the back. Jesus Christ. Any type of drug you can think of, it's here.
"Where on earth do you get all of this from?" I question, holding up a bag of whatever this stuff is.
"Sherlock. Put it down," she says in a daring tone.
"No. This coming with me, just like the blades which I'm assuming there's more of since you keep moving your trousers from your thigh, suggesting that it keeps sticking to fresh wounds. Am I correct?"

"No, they're just too baggy. Now, put them down."

"That's why you couldn't afford the flat! The rent hasn't gone up you just hadn't paid the rent, the money going towards the substances instead. Good lie though."

"Sherlock please, I don't know how-" she starts to say, voice cracking and tears threatening to start pouring out. I immediately drop the bag to the counter top.

"Y/N, it's okay," I say and pull her into me, the cries for help leaving her as soon as I do. "We're going to figure this out together, don't worry. I can't let you keep these but we're going to think of an alternative. I know we can do this. We have to." She just cries and shakes, leaning into me as I hold her. My baby sister.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers and I just stand and comfort her until she's calmed down a bit, my heart cracking with every shaking cry I hear coming from her trembling body.

-Y/N's POV-

So, now I have nothing, great. Even better, I'm sat in awkward silence with John and Sherlock. Just great. I let my guard down, I broke in Sherlock's arms. Why? I probably looked so pathetic, the pity I could hear coming from his mouth made me want to be sick. I don't want him to feel bad for me, he probably doesn't he just wanted me to stop crying and shut the fuck up. He doesn't know about my leg, the recent cuts, which is good. If he managed to take my new blades I don't know what I'd do, apart from go crazy.

"Y/N?" I snap back and see both of them staring at me, so I hum a response.
"You okay? You were looking quite, um, blank for a second," why is John, a man a barely know, getting involved?

"Yeah I'm fine."

"What were you thinking about?" Sherlock questions me, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing interesting."

"Hm. Okay. Well, now that everything's removed from your flat and you've calmed down a bit you can go back up. If I find out you've done anything else, whether it be drugs, self-harm, alcohol, ANYTHING, I will be extremely disappointed and quite mad."

"Right."

"Just letting you know. Anyways, goodnight."

I wrap up in my duvet and get comfortable, leaving myself to sit in my own thoughts. Well, today's been pretty shit. My whole world's crumbling down around me and there's nothing that I can do to save myself. I've fucked it up. School's ruined, I don't have a job, my family think I'm a wreck, I push everyone away before they even get the chance to know me. I act like I'm the best, like I'm superior to everyone and no one could ever come above me when in reality, I know I'm in the lowest grade of human society that can exist. No matter how much I tell myself that I'm better than everyone else, happier, smarter, wiser, I know I'm not and I never will be.